


Ich Mag Meine Hündinnen Blutig und Bettelnd

by Saturn_Witches



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Blood, Bruises, Burns, Crying, F/M, Handcuffs, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Pain, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rope Bondage, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 20:43:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21308345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn_Witches/pseuds/Saturn_Witches
Summary: "Lebhaft..." He spoke, something darker mixed with his cheerful tone. I suddenly regretted taking those couple semesters of German.Both his arms then moved onto my shoulders for a brief second and I considered running, but my thoughts didn't get very far, as he put his hand against the side of my head, trapping his fingers in my hair and forcefully slammed my head against the brick wall of the alley, and my vision went dark.
Relationships: Protagonist/Strade (Boyfriend to Death), Ren/Strade (Boyfriend to Death), Strade (BTD/TNR)/Original Character(s), Strade (BTD/TNR)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Pleasant

I can't push myself anymore. It's too much and I feel dizzy. All my limbs ached and I felt like crying. This was too much. I smacked my head down on my desk, crinkling the papers beneath me. Finals can suck my ass, I don't want to study anymore.

I stood out of my chair and kicked my desk in frustration. I needed a drink. I grabbed my wallet and phone, and left my room I told my mom I was meeting a friend at a cafe. She told me to be safe, as usual, and I headed out to the bar.

I hear good things about The Braying Mule but I haven't ever been to it. Partially because I am underage, but I currently couldn't give a fuck. I have a fake ID. It's fine. The inside was nice, warm colored lights lit it, which made it feel more comfortable. I ordered a drink and downed it quickly. 

The music was chill, mostly country sounding instrumentals but it wasn't bad. There was a lot of people though. I suppose on a Saturday night, a lot of people would be out. I accidentally bumped into someone while stumbling across the bar. I could already feel myself getting drunk. I hated being such a lightweight.

I found a table in a corner and plopped myself down. I tried to keep all the information I retained during painful hours of studying in my brain, but it kept slipping in and out. I barely registered anything other than my own thoughts until a drink was set in front of my hands.

I looked up and my eyes met with golden brown ones, with slight rings underneath them, but regardless, a wide, carefree smile was plastered on the man's face. His hair was a warm color of brown, wavy and a bit messy. I could see slight stubble on his chin and a scar on the right side of his face starting at the bottom of his jawbone and ending up close to the corner of his mouth which still held that smile.

"You seem a bit down in the dumps, so this is on me." He had a thick accent, German I think. I smiled up at him.

"Thanks." I immediately grabbed the drink and started on it.

"Mind if I sit?" I shook my head and he slid himself into the chair in front of me. 

"What's on your mind buddy?" He raised one of his eyebrows as he asked, his smile never faltering. He was cute.

"Just...finals. College is hard. Most of my friends don't have time to come out anywhere."

"Sounds like a drag." He agreed. I pulled out my phone and checked it. Nothing, obviously. "Haven't seen friends in a while now?" He asked.

"Yeah. Just schedule conflicts and everything." I didn't want to let this stranger know I barely had any friends to be begin with. He nodded, commenting that it must be rough.

"Such a shame, it's no surprise you're feeling a bit down."

"No, but I'm starting to feel a bit better." I didn't want to make it obvious that he was the one making me feel better.

"I didn't catch your name bud." He smiled that wide, lazy smile again and I couldn't stop myself from smiling with him.

"You first." I grinned.

"My name is Strade." I wondered if since he was German, if it would be pronounced differently. I didn't question.

"Nice to meet you Strade, I'm Bernadette, but I like going by Birdie." He seemed excited about something. 

"You too bud! You drink pretty quick." He casually mentioned. I looked down at my drink, which was almost empty.

"Ha, I guess. I hadn't noticed." I laughed lightly, feeling the alchohol push through my system. I could feel his gaze on me.

I then realized I hadn't seen him drink at all. He seemed way to focused for being at a bar. Even a non drinker occasionally gets a drink for the hell of it. And if he was German, I would assume he would drink at least something. My stomach dropped when I looked in his eyes, which were still dead locked on me, that smile still prominent. It started to make me feel uneasy. 

"It's getting kind of late, I should head back. Thanks for the drink though." I softly spoke after I had checked my phone for the time.

"No problem buddy! Have a good night!" I stood up, leaving the almost empty drink on the table with him. Before I walked away, he spoke one last time. "Have a safe trip home! Guten Abend."

"Auf Wiedersehen." I tired not to sound as shaky as I felt. But as soon as I spoke, I saw something change in his gaze. I quickly turned and walked towards the back door. Before pushing the door open and heading outside, I turned back to make sure he didn't follow, and I saw him holding my almost empty drink to his lips. My head throbbed and I quickly left out the door.

I wanted to stop and let myself calm down but I decided it would be better to just go home. I tried to keep moving quickly but I slowed to take out my phone again and check it. Still nothing. I was about to unlock it and call my brother, but I got interupted.

"Aw, too bad." Strade's voice echoed quietly from behind me. Without a second to react, his calloused hand ripped my phone from my grip and slammed it down to the concrete below us. He stomped down on it with the heel of his military grade looking boots and it shattered more.

He smacked a hand over my mouth and let his other arm firmly sit against my neck, almost as a warning. He was so close, I could smell something similar to machine grease, sweat, and something coppery emanating off of him. It was not pleasant. I could feel my body start shaking. 

"You're coming with me, understand?" He spoke slowly, and I could feel his breathe against my ear, causing me to shiver. 

I wasn't just going to let his German ass kidnap me though. I opened my mouth as much as I could and bit down on his hand with as much force as I could muster. The arm around my neck tightened and he chuckled a bit, but didn't move his hand from my mouth.

"Lebhaft..." He spoke, something darker mixed with his cheerful tone. I suddenly regretted taking those couple semesters of German.

Both his arms then moved onto my shoulders for a brief second and I considered running, but my thoughts didn't get very far, as he put his hand against the side of my head, trapping his fingers in my hair and forcefully slammed my head against the brick wall of the alley, and my vision went dark.


	2. Downstairs

It was still dark when I finally came back. I could feel the side of my head throbbing. My eyes were blurry. I tried to bring my hand up to my face, but all I felt was the uncomfortable rub of harsh rope against my wrists. Great. I blinked away the blurriness, looking around at where I sat. 

It was a basement of some sorts. Red colored stains littered the floor. To my right, against the wall, sat a small mini fridge, and a few cardboard boxes. In front of me, was a couple cabinets and a table. I could see tool of various sorts hung up above the table. To my left was a walkway to a staircase. I wondered if I could safely escape that way if I ever managed to get this rope off of me.

The red stains on the floor seemed to be everywhere. And the room smelled a strong coppery musk. It made me feel a bit sick. I didn't want to think about it. I wiggled around in the rope again, until I heard a heavy door open from the top of the stairs. I stopped moving. The man from the bar sauntered down the steps and stopped in front of me, grinning at me like he did last night.

"Mornin!" He sounded too cheery.

"How ya feeling, kumpel?" I cringed a bit. Even in German he still calls me 'buddy'. It's intimidating. 

"My wrists hurt." I complained. Might as well. He bit his lip slightly, looking me up and down.

"Ah, did I tie you too tight? I can't help it... You look good with a bit of rope burn." My shoulders shivered. That made me extremely uncomfortable. 

"Look, I think there's been some sort of misunderstanding." I tried to sound calm as I spoke, but I was about to start panicking. 

"Misunderstanding?" He suddenly burst out in a quick fit of laughter which stopped as suddenly as it began. "No, I know what I'm doing." 

"Oh! I almost forgot. Before we get started, you want something to eat? Drink?" Get started? I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

I couldn't think too hard on before feeling my stomach churn. I hadn't eaten since before I went to the bar. I didn't even know how long it had been since then. I shook my head, refusing the offer. I was officially way too freaked out to eat anything this guy would give me. 

"Nothing, hm? That's alright. I'm eager to get started too." His eyes flickered with joy as he whipped out a large hunting knife. Fear came flooding back and I struggled against the ropes. I wanted to whimper and curl up on the floor.

"What are you doing?" I sheepishly asked. I didn't want to sound too aggressive. He had a fucking knife. 

"Your clothing's in the way."

"Wait! No, stop!" I shouted but that didn't stop him, he seemed even a bit more excited as he stuck the blade under my shirt and ripped up. 

I jerked as the blade grazed my skin a few times. In just a few moments, my tattered clothes were torn from me and I was left in my underwear in the cold floor.He leaned back and stared at me. I could feel a flush creep up front my neck and I started to shiver.

"Ahhhhh~ You're so..." he paused, seeming to search for the right word. "Unbroken." What the hell was this guy talking about?! 

"What are you talking about?" I wanted answers. I wanted something to make sense. "Why are you doing this?!"

The German bent down to his knees, just inches away from me. He reached out his hand and rubbed his fingers over my thigh. His hand was rough. He was so close that I could smell his odd scent again, just like at the bar.

"I have a lot of reasons," He kept rubbing my thigh slowly, I was getting goosebumps. "I want to. I can. We're going to have a very intimate experience." He kept smiling at me. I don't think I have seen him without that smile. I realized I was starting to shake.

"Have you ever screamed for anyone before?" And then I sincerely regretted asking... he soon gripped the thigh he was previously rubbing and lowered the knife to my skin. I could feel my body tense up as the cold blade touched my thigh.

He left it there, just idling in anticipation for a short moment and I tried my best to keep my fear inside of me. Soon, white hot pain seared up my leg as he dragged the blade of that hunting knife slowly through my skin. I did my best to hold in from shouting in pain. If he wanted screams, I was going to make sure he didn't get what he wanted.

I gasped in a breath to steady myself, and I realized Strade was looking at me excitedly. He was...really enjoying this. My head throbbed and I stared him down, keeping my tears inside as best as I could. Strade started to breath harder and I watched as his gaze travelled down to my legs again.

"Stop...no more.." I pleaded, knowing it would do nothing.

He reached out and raked the knife roughly through my skin again, cutting deeper this time. Blood pooled out of it, and I couldn't stop myself from staring at it in horror. I bit my lip as he made yet another cut, a small whimper exiting my throat.

He took a deep breath, leaning back from me and pushed his fingers through his hair, leaving traces of blood on a few strands. 

"Ah..." His breath was shaky. "I'm getting too excited.." I stared back at him, and I could feel my body shaking. He whiped his knife on his pants, leaving blood on his khaki pants. My blood.

"Oh no..." He sounded a bit sarcastic. "Look how much you're bleeding." He stared at the wounds on my legs, still oozing blood. His cheeks were flushed and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He didn't seem very upset. The pain blossoming from my legs was making me feel groggy. I tried to stay focused as much as possible.

"Mmm, you aren't gonna last like that." He leaned in closer to me, smiling wider. Was that even possible?

"Would you like me to stitch those up for you?" He asked quietly, a hint of excitement in his tone.

Of course I fucking didn't want him to stitch them for me. What if he did it wrong or something? But then again, I didn't want to die in this guy's basement, so I reluctantly nodded, accepting his offer. He exclaimed happily and walked to some cupboards on the other side of the room and came back with a small medical kit.

I wonder how many people he has used that on. He sat in front of my, legs crossed, and opened the box. At least it was actual medical supplies instead of some shady rusty needle or something. He hummed joyously as he pulled out a small, curved needle and thread. 

He still had on that same cheerful and contagious smile as he did in the bar.He poked his fingers once with the needle, and then lowered it to my leg and pressed it to my injured skin. I could feel my leg tense up. I wasn't the biggest fan of needles, but I needed it done or I would bleed out.

"This is probably going to hurt." He stated the obvious. He barely finished his sentence though, before pressing the needle through my thigh's skin. I hissed in pain, squeezing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth through his slow process. It went by quick enough, like he had done it plenty of times. The thought made my stomach drop.

"Almost.." He tugged the sutures on the last wound closed, which shot more pain through my leg, but I could handle it. "Done!" He piped happily, cutting off the excess thread.

"Ah! I almost forgot," He reached behind him and grabbed a plastic bottle and a small cloth. "Alchohol!"

"Wait just a second!" I tired to stop him, but he didn't hesitate to sloppily splash the liquid over my fresh cuts. I took in a sharp breath, biting my cheek and leaning my head back to stop from yelling out in pain. It burned like crazy! The pain soon started to subside though.

"There we go, all better?"

I sat, catching my breath and letting my body relax. I couldn't trust myself to answer him without crying, so I just gave him a short nod. He did seem to care about what I answered anyway. He straightened his shirt before bending down towards me again, brushing a hand against my face.

"I've decided that I'll be good! Ich werde das hier auskosten." He grinned at me. How reassuring. 

"Rest up Bernadette." He gave me two light pats on the cheek, straightened himself again, stretching cheerfully and walked off towards the stairs.

Was he just going to leave me here all night?! Alone in a stranger's basement, fresh wounds, on a hard concrete floor, all night long. He thumped up the stairs and I couldn't stop myself from calling after him desperately.

"Wait! Don't just leave me! Strade!" I jerked back as the door slammed shut and the lights abruptly shut off. Great...also in the dark. I looked down at my legs, covered in red stitches and residual blood from what the alcohol didn't wash off. They still hurt like shit, but I couldn't do anything. 

I needed to try and keep it together. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the silence and the darkness. God I hated this... I leaned my head back against the pole and tried to rest up. Thinking about my brother...


	3. Rest

I woke up in a cold sweat. I had almost forgotten where I was, but the pain in my legs and the cold basement floor underneath me brought me back to reality. I normally can't sleep in the dark, I must have been exhausted. I squint in the darkness that is still around me, attempting to see anything new, but nothing.

I tugged tiredly against the ropes behind me, and one of my wrists slid a bit! I tugged some more, popping my hand out of the rope. I silently thanked whatever God was looking out for me, popping my other out and massaging both of them. The rope had left my writs bruised. 

I needed to think about what I was going to do next. I knew I could move, but how far could my injured legs actually get me? If I try and go out that door, he could just be waiting on the other side of it and I would be done for. How far could I even get up those stairs? My knees felt weak, and I wasn't even standing. So maybe escaping was not the answer. But if I tried to search for a weapon, surely he would notice. 

I don't think there is anything I can do. Every option felt hopeless. And I was still so tired...I have no idea what else he will put me through, so I decided to just get in a more comfortable position, slip my wrists back in the rope and tried to rest more.

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! Welcome to where I express my disgusting love for psycho greasy german men! I hope you enjoy and please leave feedback if you have the time!!


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